


Habits of the Heart

by shirosquared



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Concussions, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Lance and Shiro make a terrifying team, Lance is very capable, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slightly beyond canon-typical violence, depictions of injuries, stranded fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirosquared/pseuds/shirosquared
Summary: After Shiro takes a hard fall, Lance is there to help support him even while the Galra hunt them through dangerous conditions.“Shiro?” a voice yelled, the volume murderous to Shiro’s head. He knew that voice, so achingly familiar. Shiro hoped with everything he had that the blood he smelled wasn’t Lance’s.





	Habits of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the Shance Support Squad's Valentine's Exchange ([Tumblr](https://shancesupportsquad.tumblr.com)/[Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/shancesquad))! My giftee was Lexi, or hirocyonia ([Tumblr](https://hirocyonia.tumblr.com)/[Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/hirocyonia))!

Shiro groaned, his senses coming back to him one by one. First, he could hear the shifting and shouts somewhere nearby. What were they looking for? Then he could smell burnt metal, a heavy scent of blood, a hint of something almost like peppermint.

He could feel, and the first thing he registered was that everything _hurt_ , so much that Shiro could barely think. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get past the initial wave of it. Once he adjusted, he'd be fine.

Slowly, as his body adjusted—and really, he knew he _shouldn’t_ be able to say he was used to this kind of thing, but he was—to the pain, he took stock of his own condition. Most of his armor was warped and dented, some parts singed and burnt. His visor was cracked and no longer able to seal shut, part of the material pressing uncomfortably against his head. He reached up to pull it off, but his right arm didn’t budge. Nothing even felt like it responded.

Shiro glanced over anxiously, unsure of what he would find. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the state of his prosthetic. Part of it was completely missing, destroyed from the elbow to his fingertips. Exposed wires hung out of the end, and Shiro resisted the urge to poke them. He had no idea what they did, and could just end up causing more problems for himself if he wasn't careful.

He didn’t see any large pieces of the parts that’d been broken, probably lost in all of the snow. By the time they found all of it, the snow that melted would have probably already wrecked the internals, even if he had the capability to actually do something with those pieces.

Shiro’s head pounded and his ankle throbbed, probably twisted or sprained. At the least, he should keep his weight off of it as much as possible to prevent it from getting worse.

The rest of him was covered in trivial bruises and scrapes, nothing life-threatening, though he couldn’t see his back well enough to tell. In fact, none of his injuries would end his life. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, honestly. He didn't want to die, nor did he want to live in pain. It really turned out to be a vicious cycle.

He still smelled blood, thick and heavy. Was it his? If it wasn't his, then who—

“Shiro?” a voice yelled, the volume murderous to Shiro’s head. He knew that voice, so achingly familiar. Shiro hoped with everything he had that the blood he smelled wasn’t Lance’s.

“Lance?” Shiro started to try to sit up, but a hand pressed lightly on his shoulder and pushed him back down. He had to get to Lance, he had to make sure he was okay—

“Easy,” Lance murmured. “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard to mess up your helmet like that. Are your comms busted?”

“Yeah,” Shiro muttered, looking over at Lance to try and assess his condition. It was hard to focus, to pick out the details. “Are you okay?” he asked instead. “Tell… tell me where you got hit.”

“I'm fine, Shiro,” Lance said, watching him carefully. “Are you—”

“Fine,” Shiro answered automatically.

“Let me check you over,” Lance said quietly. “You’re a mess. I came down here as quick as I could, but I had to land somewhere else so I wouldn’t draw attention to you. You _scared_ me, you idiot.” Shiro realized he probably _did_ look like a mess. That he was worrying Lance…

Shiro blinked. “Draw attention to me?” Had they been in a fight? Were they still?

“Yeah. How are you feeling?” Lance asked. “Where are you hurt?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro admitted. “Just… a lot.”

Lance carefully pulled off Shiro’s helmet, and Shiro relaxed with a sigh. The pressure against his skull had been making everything worse. “Man, this thing is completely busted,” Lance murmured, examining it. “I’d hate to think…”

“Of what might’ve happened if I wasn’t wearing it?” Shiro asked dryly. “I’d definitely be unconscious, maybe the head trauma would’ve—”

“Shiro,” Lance interjected, “you’re really starting to worry me. Come on, man, are you always like this?”

Shiro started to say no, he wasn’t, thank you very much—then remembered that it was a terrible lie. “... Yeah, pretty much. I usually try not to show it around you guys.”

“Yeah, well that’s bullshit,” Lance muttered. “You don’t have to hide anything from us. Whether it’s very poorly-timed jokes, or stuff about your year, or anything else… we’re here for you, you know that? We aren’t leaving.”

They weren’t leaving? Everyone left. Even Ulaz—

_“I’ve planted a bomb to cover your escape.”_

_“I’m going to take it down from the inside!”_

_“Earth needs you. We all do.”_

_“Voltron is too valuable. The universe needs—”_

“Shiro, come on, come back,” Lance said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You alright?”

“I was just… thinking,” Shiro sighed.

“About what?” Lance pressed softly. “If you don’t want to talk, say so and I’ll stop asking, but don’t do it because you think I can’t handle it.”

Shiro grimaced. “I just… it’s a bit hard for me to wrap my head around that.”

“Around what?”

“That you’re not going to disappear.” And maybe it was a stupid idea to say that, but he was too exhausted to try and filter everything.

“Why would we do that?” Lance asked.

“I can think of a few reasons,” Shiro answered flatly. “I’m just… well aware of how easily life ends. And you’re all so young, you’ve got your whole lives ahead of you…”

“You’re only a few years older than me,” Lance reminded him. “You’re pretty young, too. You’re, what, twenty-two?”

“Something like that.” Truth be told, Shiro had no idea. It sounded about right.

“You’ve got your life ahead of you, too,” Lance insisted. “You’re not on death row, or anything like that. We’re gonna get you home.”

Shiro hummed. “Gotcha.”

Lance nodded, satisfied to let it go for now. “Good. We’ll talk later, but… later. Can you sit up? We should get your back checked out.”

Lance watched as Shiro struggled to push himself up, quickly moving in to help hold him steady. He hissed at the sight of Shiro’s back. “ _Dude_ ,” he murmured. “Doesn’t that _hurt_?”

Shiro blinked slowly. “Doesn’t what hurt?”

Lance sucked in a breath. Take it easy, calm down. Be honest. “Your back’s all torn up. Probably where that blood came from, considering it’s all under you. Let’s get you on your feet, yeah? We should move.”

“Why?”

“We need to get those injuries wrapped up,” Lance said. They were being followed. He'd drawn them to his location when he yelled for Shiro, and now they needed to _move_. The Lions’ particle barriers would keep them safe for the time being, but Shiro and Lance didn't have that protection.

Shiro nodded, grimacing as Lance helped him stand. He hissed in pain, and Lance murmured a quick apology as they hobbled away from the area. Lance was careful to make sure Shiro put as little weight as possible on his ankle, but it was unfortunately impossible to avoid.

“Whassat?” Shiro murmured, looking around the bushes. “Smells like… peppermint.”

“Must be one of the plants.” Lance didn’t let Shiro sit down until they were far away from the patrolling sentries, kneeling down in front of him.

“Alright, Shiro, I'm gonna look at those cuts, okay?”

“‘Kay.” Lance carefully pulled the wrecked armor off of Shiro’s body, setting it aside. He hummed a quiet tune as he worked, mostly to keep himself calm. Some of the pieces were harder to pull off, but he hopefully managed while causing Shiro minimal pain.

Once the armor was all removed, he spoke again. “Shiro? You with me?”

“Yeah,” Shiro murmured. “‘Sup?” The walk clearly hadn't done him any good. Lance glanced up at the path, which was speckled with red and their footsteps. Well, that was a trail if he’d ever seen one. But Shiro couldn’t go any further without being treated.

“I need to pull your shirt off in order to treat this properly. Is that okay?” Shiro nodded, but Lance lightly tapped his shoulder. “I need you to keep talking. Don't go all nonverbal on me.”

Shiro blinked up at Lance. “Oh. Sorry.”

Lance shook his head. “Don't apologize. Can I take your shirt off to treat these?”

Shiro frowned, hesitating. For one horrifying moment, Lance thought he'd decline. Without getting the cuts treated, he'd eventually bleed out or die of infection. “... Yeah,” he said finally.

Lance nearly sighed in relief, carefully working the top half of the undersuit off of Shiro’s shoulders and arm until it bunched around his waist. He unclipped the Blue Lion’s med kit from his belt and set it on the floor, flipping the lid. His helmet identified the correct bottle and he removed it from the box, along with a clean rag.

“Okay, Shiro,” Lance warned, “this is gonna hurt. It's gonna burn, but we have to clean these out. They've all got dirt inside, and it'll be a bitch if they get infected.”

“... Got it.” Shiro closed his eyes, bracing himself. Lance hated to cause Shiro more pain, but it had to be done. He wouldn't let Shiro die out here.

“Three, two, one,” Lance murmured, pressing the rag to Shiro’s back shortly after. Shiro stiffened, hissing sharply, but Lance methodically scrubbed the wounds clean, being careful not to reinfect them with the dirty cloth.

He wiped away the excess blood that had traveled down to Shiro’s waist before grabbing the roll of bandages, wrapping the cuts around his torso. He had a bit of trouble figuring out the right amount of pressure, but luckily the cuts had mostly stopped bleeding by now.

Lance examined Shiro’s left arm, carefully cleaning the scrapes there. With the exception of a cut on his bicep, nothing needed to be covered, so he wrapped the one cut before moving back into Shiro’s field of vision.

“Hey, Shiro,” Lance tried to sound cheerful. “Can you look up at me?” Shit, how did he check for a concussion again? Shiro’s eyes met his, and Lance carefully looked him over. His eyes looked clear, and he had been talking clearly enough… was Shiro already experiencing the effects of blood loss? It hadn't been that long, had it?

Shiro frowned, his eyes scanning Lance‘s face. Lance wrapped his arms around Shiro’s neck and pulled him into a hug, closing his eyes. It'd only been a few hours since the initial crash, but they were both exhausted. Still, Lance wasn't sure if Shiro should be sleeping while he was in this state.

Shiro wrapped his left arm around Lance’s back, his right dangling uselessly at his side. Lance took a moment to calm himself down before pulling back to look at what remained of Shiro’s Galra prosthetic.

Lance wasn't an engineer by any standards. He still only needed one look to tell that the prosthetic was beyond repairing, at least not without serious work that he wasn't capable of (even if he had the right tools, which he didn't).

He hadn’t seen any pieces large enough to salvage where he'd found Shiro, and hoped the Galra never found it in all of the snow and ice.

“S’busted,” Shiro murmured, as if it wasn't obvious.

“We’re gonna get it fixed up at the Castle,” Lance promised, “but it's getting dark. We should find a safe place to rest for the night.”

Shiro frowned, glancing around at their surroundings. Lance followed his gaze, his stomach doing a flip when he looked back at Shiro, who was shivering hard. Oh, shit. Maybe it wasn’t blood loss. Maybe Shiro was experiencing hypothermia. Maybe it was both—an extremely dangerous combination. He should've never taken the armor off. Even if the thermal regulation was shot, the extra layers were shielding him from the cold. But then he wouldn’t have been able to treat the cuts, which would’ve led to severe blood loss or infection.

“Shit,” Lance hissed. They needed to get out of the cold, like, yesterday. How could he have overlooked that? “Shiro, hey, look at me.”

“Lance?” Shiro looked dazed. Wow, Lance was really bad at remembering symptoms. Shivering was definitely one, he thought he remembered something about speech? And… something about a pulse. Weak pulse? That sounded right. He lightly pressed two fingers to Shiro’s throat, searching for his pulse. It was difficult to find at first, and definitely not as strong as it should be.

Well, it turned out paying attention during those Garrison first aid classes would pay off. The only problem was he couldn’t really lift Shiro. Shiro was too heavy, which made trying to get him somewhere with little movement near impossible.

To make things worse, Lance could hear the faint sound of something approaching. The steps thudded softly against the snow, measured and mechanical.

He gritted his teeth, ready to fight here if it came down to it. He wasn't going to let them get Shiro. He needed a way to drag Shiro out of the forest and find a cave to hide in. It would get them out of the wind, and the few inches of snow on the ground wouldn't be quite as high.

Other than the footsteps steadily approaching, the area was silent. The silence carried an air of oppression, dampening and warping the sound waves. As the sentries got closer, their steps sounded less like steps and more like a cacophony of metal, scraping and grinding. How many sentries were on their way? Was the group only sentries?

Shiro tried to get to his feet, his heart thundering in his chest, but Lance pushed him back down. “No,” Lance hissed. “You need to take it easy.”

“They're coming,” Shiro murmured. “Coming… next fight.” He almost looked resigned, though Lance could see the barely contained fear behind the exterior.

Lance’s heart shattered. “Shiro, no, I'm not letting that happen. You're safe, remember? You're a badass Paladin of Voltron.” He chuckled, the sound coming out watery. “We were so happy when we found you, you know? And we love you. I… you're family.”

Shiro frowned. “Family?”

“Family,” Lance agreed. “And the others are waiting for us to come home. So you gotta stay with me, okay?”

Shiro grimaced. “They're coming.”

“They are.” They needed a solution, some way he could move Shiro without hurting him. But they didn't have _time_. The sentries would cross over that hill any moment, and they'd be screwed.

They didn't have a choice. Lance squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, Shiro was still watching him.

“I'm sorry,” he told Shiro. “This is gonna really, really suck. But we really can't stay here.” He slipped an arm under Shiro’s knees and another behind his back, wincing at the pained sound Shiro made as he struggled to lift him. Shiro was _heavy_. It probably had to do with the hunk of metal attached to him (despite how broken it was, it was still mostly metal), but even without it he would've been hard to lift.

Lance barely managed to pick Shiro up into his arms, straining himself from the weight. The emergency pack and first aid kit hung at his waist, but the broken pieces of armor were still littered across the ground. They wouldn't do them any good. He carried Shiro through the trees, his arms protesting from the strain.

“Put… down,” Shiro murmured, his head resting on Lance’s shoulder.

“Not a chance.”

They walked a few hundred feet until the sentries’ footsteps faded, and Lance brought Shiro into the nearest cave. They went deep inside, and Lance didn't set Shiro down until they were safe. Then he nearly collapsed, his arms and legs shaking so bad that one might think _he_ was the one suffering from hypothermia.

Fire, fire, he needed a fire. Something to help warm Shiro, or else he wouldn't survive. A quick search of the cave revealed a few pieces of something similar to wood. He carefully arranged them in a circle, fumbling for the fire starter. A quick drag sparked the flame, burning the lighter material before it spread to the heavier pieces.

The flames burned a bright green, but what mattered was the heat it gave off. Lance sighed in relief, pulling the emergency blanket out of the pack and carefully wrapping it around Shiro. Lance placed a water container over the fire, allowing the contents inside to heat up while he tried to make the cave safer.

Here, they were isolated from the wind, which made it several degrees warmer already. He rummaged through the pack, pulling out a short knife. He wasn't Keith, but the blade would be incredibly useful.

He tucked it inside his belt for now, checking on the water. The warmth radiated from the fire and from the water container.

“Alright, Shiro, think you can sit up?” Lance asked. “I'll help you.”

“Don't need,” Shiro murmured, struggling to push himself up on his own. His arm gave out and he would've fallen right down if not for Lance’s arms holding him steady.

“Take it easy,” Lance warned, supporting Shiro’s weight. He carefully pressed the water container into Shiro’s hand, making sure the heat wouldn't burn after being exposed to the cold for so long. “Take small sips, okay? If you chug it all, it won't warm you up.”

While Shiro drank the water, Lance pulled off his helmet. He pulled off the side panel like Hunk had shown him, exposing the wiring inside. The light of the fire allowed him to see the wire knocked out of place, and he was grateful that it was only one wire as he plugged it back in. He didn't know what the wires did, really, so if two of them had been out he wouldn’t know where to put them.

He slipped his helmet back on and static buzzed in his ear, to which he grinned. The signal might not be great, but now they _had_ a signal.

“Alright, looks like we’ve got a semi-working mic.” Lance glanced over at Shiro, who seemed to be doing a bit better. He didn't look quite so dazed, but the effects were still there. “Try and get some rest, okay? You need it. The others are gonna be here before you know it.” Before Lance could stop himself, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Shiro’s forehead. “Rest easy. I’ll keep you safe.”

Shiro fell asleep fairly quickly, which was worrying in itself. Lance tucked the blanket a bit tighter around Shiro, trying to keep the cold out. The green fire still burned brightly, lighting the cave with a flickering emerald light. They needed to find a way back to their lions, and fast.

* * *

 

Lance didn't know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up something shifted next to him. He jumped to his feet, bayard flashing to his hand, and before he was fully aware he had the barrel trained on the source of the movement.

Shiro stared back at him, his eyes wide in a moment of clarity. “Lance?”

The blue rifle vanished as Lance kneeled down in front of Shiro, grimacing. He could’ve seriously injured Shiro if he hadn’t hesitated before firing… “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“I… still hazy.” Shiro closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall of the cave. Emerald light flickered across his face, making the whole situation look like something out of a horror movie. The cave entrance remained dark, which was good, though the early light of day had begun to slowly creep in. Lance couldn’t hear the sentries anymore, which was a huge relief compared to the panic of the previous night. His muscles still ached from the strain of carrying Shiro, and his injuries hadn’t exactly healed, but none of it was anything worse than superficial.

“Alright, you think you can focus on me for a little bit?” Lance asked. “We’ve gotta change your bandages while we’ve got time.” Shiro blinked slowly but nodded, his dull eyes on Lance.

Lance carefully shifted Shiro, reluctantly pulling off the blanket and setting it aside. Lance grimaced at the sight of the dirty bandages, unraveling them and tossing the bundle aside. He hissed out a curse when he noticed that some of the dirt had made it through the bandages and around the cuts. “Shiro, I’m really sorry about this, but we’ve gotta clean these again.”

Shiro nodded, and Lance wiped down his back with the disinfectant just like they’d done the previous night. It was difficult, knowing he was causing Shiro pain, but it had to be done or else things would just get worse. “Alright, the good news is that these mostly stopped bleeding, so that takes care of that issue… just gotta wrap these up again.”

One good thing was that the bandages stayed secure around Shiro’s torso but didn’t inhibit his movements or breathing any, which was a definite plus over Earth bandages. Lance remembered one time his brother had tried to use bandages around his chest and ended up going to the emergency room to have them cut off because he could barely breathe.

“And done,” Lance said, wrapping the blanket around Shiro’s shoulders again. Once it was back in place, Lance picked up another piece of the not-wood and tossed it into the fire to keep it burning.

His helmet buzzed and crackled in his ear, and Lance furrowed his brows as it shifted in pitch and volume. It hadn’t done that before. Were the others on their way?

_“—iro! It… idge! La—!”_

Lance started, trying to listen to the sounds filtering through the static. “Pidge! Pidge, is that you?”

_“—kay— Galra— near—ation…”_

“Pidge, I'm not getting anything clear. Where are you?”

_“—way— soon. St— afe!”_

“Pidge, what's going on?”

Static.

Lance swore, pulling his helmet off and making sure the side panel was still secure. He then put it back on, turning down the volume of the static in his ears.

He sighed. “Hang in there, Shiro. They're on their way, yeah? And then we’ll get you all treated and healed. Just keep your eyes on me.”

“Got it,” Shiro murmured.

“Alright, let's see… you think you can stand on your own? We should find a new place, we’re gonna get found here soon enough.”

Something exploded at the entrance of the cave. Lance ducked over Shiro as the rocks shifted and fell, effectively blocking their way out and cutting off their source of outside light. Thankfully, nothing landed on top of them, but Lance still felt the spike of ice cold fear in his chest at the thought of what could've happened.

“What was that?” Shiro murmured, looking over at the new rock barricade.

“I'm not sure,” Lance admitted in a low voice. “I don't know if that was done to keep us in or out. Stay quiet.”

Mechanical footsteps clicked overhead, growing in number and volume. Underneath Lance, Shiro shuddered, his breathing picking up. Lance grimaced, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s neck gently. “It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured. “We’ll be okay. I'm not gonna let them get you.”

Shiro nodded, though he still looked dazed. Thankfully, he wasn't shivering quite as hard, and a quick check showed a stronger pulse, but he wasn't out of the danger yet. “Is there a… another way?”

“Another way out? I'm not sure. There might not be.” Lance got to his feet and tossed another piece of the not-wood into the fire, leaving them with one piece left. “This fire’s gonna run out of wood soon.”

Shiro blinked, confused. “The Galra are… basically at our door and… you're focused on fire?”

“You’ve still got symptoms of hypothermia. Besides, it's gonna take them a few minutes to bust through that. A lot of rocks fell, guess they didn't think that through.

“I mean, seriously, who _does_ that? What a horrible plan, that's not how you do an ambush. You know, the whole ‘surprise’ thing is important. It's crazy, though I guess whoever’s outside isn't all that smart. Matches most of Zarkon’s commanders, you know?” Lance kept up a steady stream of quiet chatter as the Galra broke through the rock wall, mostly to remind Shiro he wasn't alone.

“And most of his actually smart ones are now dead in space or otherwise, courtesy of a Voltron butt-kicking!” Shiro chuckled at that, some of the tension unwinding from his shoulders, so Lance kept going. “You’d think Zarkon could find better-looking ones, too, but I mean the only one who's even been remotely attractive was _Lotor_ , and that's—ugh.” He made a face, causing Shiro to snort.

Lance took Shiro’s hand, winding their fingers together. He squeezed lightly, smiling when Shiro hesitantly squeezed back. “Pidge and Keith and Hunk are all gonna swoop in like badasses at the last second, ‘cause that's just how they are, and it’s gonna be super awesome. And then we can get back to the Castle and Allura’ll create a wormhole and then we’ll be away from here.”

The rock wall finally fell apart, scattering throughout the cave as one knocked over the makeshift fire pit. Lance got to his feet, the knife from the emergency kit gripped tightly in his hand. He wasn't a melee fighter by any standards, but he wasn't going to let them get Shiro without a fight. He charged forward with a shout, his shield forming on his left wrist as he struck with his right.

Dozens of sentries waited outside, if the loud mechanical whirring was anything to go by, but thanks to the cave-in they couldn't all rush in at once. Lance took the small advantage for what it was, working as quickly as possible to dispatch the sentries before more could flood in. Their numbers seemed almost endless, two more replacing every one he destroyed. Sparking wires and dead sentries scattered the floor in a rough pile, almost creating a blockade of their own.

But Lance could only hold out for so long, as much as he wished he could do more. His swings became slower, his shield couldn't block quite as much, and he backed himself into a corner as the sentries began to get the upper hand. He swung the knife wildly, exhaustion making his limbs heavy. But Lance was still between Shiro and the Galra. He wasn't going to let them get Shiro, not as long as he was still able to destroy the robots in front of him.

A few minutes later, one of them got in a lucky shot on his side. Lance shouted in pain, coughing and wheezing, and the newly-arrived commander easily knocked him to the ground. The knife clattered to the ground and the translucent shield vanished as Lance pressed a hand to the mark there. It was just a burn, thankfully, but it still hurt like hell and made it difficult to get up.

"Lance!"

Shiro scooped the knife off of the ground, looking shaky on his feet and unbalanced with only one working arm. But he charged forward anyway, meeting the commander head on. Lance gritted his teeth and materialized his bayard, firing at the sentries still in the cave as Shiro fought. Shiro grunted above him, likely receiving as many hits as he was giving, but Lance had his job and he needed to do it. This was the best way he could help Shiro right now—Shiro stood no chance with all of these sentries around.

The metal scraps on the ground made it hard to maneuver, hard to fight. Shiro hit the ground harshly and cried out, barely keeping his grip on the knife but having trouble getting to his feet with one arm.

The last sentry fell, the cave falling into silence. The commander approached Shiro, his expression murderous, and Lance trained his bayard on the Galra.

_Inhale._ He took a deep breath, following the commander's movements as he leaned down.

_Exhale._ His finger found the trigger, gently resting on it.

_Fire_. Lance pulled the trigger.

The commander fell—thankfully not on top of Shiro—and clashed horribly with one of the sentries. Lance couldn't find it in him to feel apologetic.

Shiro blinked, turning his head to look over. "Lance—"

Lance gave him a thumbs up, his bayard disappearing as he forced himself to his feet. "I told you, didn't I? I wasn't gonna let them get you."

The smile he got in return was small but genuine. Shiro released the knife and Lance pulled Shiro to his feet, taking some of his weight. The embers of emerald flame flickered weakly before extinguishing, leaving the cave in near perfect darkness.

That was how the team found them, hobbling out of the cave with Shiro’s left arm draped over Lance’s shoulders.

Everything after that passed as a blur. They were taken back to the Castle while the others grabbed Blue and Black, and both Lance and Shiro were put into healing pods to treat their wounds.

It felt like only a moment later that Lance awoke and stumbled out of his pod, only to be pulled into a tight hug courtesy of Hunk. Lance’s teammates were like a big party, loud but welcoming, and yet he found himself looking over at Shiro’s pod through it all. Shiro already looked much better, sleeping peacefully behind the pod’s translucent front panel.

Lance spent most of his time in the pod room, keeping Shiro company while he rested. Sometimes he talked to the air, sometimes he paced, sometimes he just sat there as if he could see Shiro get better with each passing tick. Shiro was supposed to be getting out of the pod today, a thought confirmed as the others began to trickle into the med bay. Lance stood as they gathered around, and shortly after the last person—Allura, having been finding a safe location for the Castle to hide—arrived, the pod slid open.

Shiro fell forward, and Lance reached out to catch him. Keith also reached out, and together they helped Shiro to his feet. Then the hugs started, and the shouting, but Lance was content to stay out of it. It was great to see Shiro feeling better, it really was, but now that everyone was really safe he couldn’t stop thinking about everything he’d done on Krishna Five.

He’d caused Shiro so much pain, allowing the bandages to get dirty and forcing him to fight for his life while injured and sick. He’d promised, and yet Shiro had had to fight anyway. Lance could've done more, maybe he could've found them a cave with more than one exit. How had he not even considered that?

Later, he promised himself, he’d talk to Shiro. They could work things out without the rest of the team hovering over their shoulders, listening to their every word.

* * *

Missions became more frequent, leaving the paladins with little alone time. A week after they were rescued from Krishna Five, Lance still hadn’t found the chance to talk to Shiro.

He ended up avoiding Shiro during group sessions, not wanting to start the conversation in front of everyone. It was hard avoiding him sometimes—Lance didn’t realize just how much time they spent together until he tried to avoid someone—but he managed where he could. At the very least, he could make sure he wouldn’t be caught alone with Shiro.

He wanted to talk to Shiro, he really did, but the thought of the others overhearing the conversation and knowing what Lance had done made his heart skip a beat and his palms slick with sweat. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe, and when he opened them again he froze.

Lance expected to be alone, not to see Shiro looking at him with something almost regret. Lance almost understood for a moment, though the sting is still there.

“... Lance,” Shiro murmured, “can we talk?”

“We’re talking right now,” Lance answered.

“About what happened on Krishna Five. I understand if you don't want to tell the others, but please at least talk to me.” Shiro’s eyes were sad and the corners of his mouth turned downwards. “I don't want to see you hurt like this.”

Lance stared. Shiro, the king of saying ‘everything’s just fine’ while everything crumbles, wanted to tell _him_ to talk? What a hypocrite.

“I just… wanted to say thank you,” Shiro continued anyway, smiling softly. “You really came through back there. If you hadn’t been there, I’d be dead or a Galra prisoner.”

“That's why I went after you,” Lance said. “I saw you go down and all your systems were offline, so I went after you, but I took a hit on the way down and ended up also crashing. I… I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. I mean, your arm is still broken.”

Shiro shook his head. “Lance, you saved my life. You're not an engineer, you're a pilot. Same as me. We’ll just leave it to Pidge, Hunk, and Coran. They know what they're doing. But my point is, I’d take a busted prosthetic over being dead or captured. You can't fix everything by yourself. That's what you've got us for.”

Lance scowled. There Shiro went, doing it again. “You’re such a hypocrite!” he snapped. Shiro’s eyes widened, but Lance barreled on before he could interrupt. “You give us all these talks saying how we need to open up and talk about what's bothering us, but none of us have seen you ever do it.

“It's because you're scared, isn't it? Scared that we’ll disappear just like you said so you keep your distance to avoid getting hurt. But you're _still_ getting hurt because you bury everything down inside you and soon you're going to explode. It's ridiculous that you think we’re just going to up and leave at any moment, or be scared of you if you tell us things.

“It’s bullshit.” Lance stepped forward, closing the distance between them and putting a finger on Shiro’s chest. Shiro looked astonished, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “ _I'm_ _not scared of you_. You're our teammate, our awesome leader, and sure you've done some dark shit but haven't we all at this point? Nobody’s gonna suddenly change their opinion of you because you, say, made someone die slowly or tore them apart in the arena. It wasn't your choice.”

“It was—”

Lance kept going. “It _wasn't_ your choice, because if you didn't fight you would've been killed. We trust you and we love you so, so much but it feels like you're on the other side of a wall sometimes. And God, I just want to get to know you. Not Shiro the Leader, not Shiro the Black Paladin or Shiro the Pilot of the Kerberos Mission. I want to know who _Shiro_ is. When's your birthday, what's your favorite color, what's something stupid you did as a kid. That kinda stuff. If you say we’re your team, then trust us to be able to listen to you. You do on the field, so why not now? You're important, too. Remember that.”

Shiro stared for a moment before answering. “I was born on February 29th. My favorite color is blue. When I was younger, I climbed up a tree and would spend hours up there pretending it was a treehouse or a rocket to take me to another world.” A smile tugged at his lips, making him look adorable. “I was a weird kid.”

“Dude, _everyone_ does that. But I appreciate that you're trying to open up. You can trust us. We’re all way too stubborn to let you go, anyway.” Lance grinned before it fell with a sigh. “Just think about it, okay?”

Shiro smiled gently. “I will. Thank you, Lance. Now, about Krishna Five…”

Lance shook his head. “Not now. Later. For now, think about what we just talked about.”

Shiro snorted. “More like you talked and I listened.”

“See, there's the spirit!”

Shiro laughed. “Alright, alright. Not now. Besides, the others are probably wondering where we went by now.”

“Yeah, probably.” Lance stretched. “Sorry for kinda… exploding at you. It's just… you were _dying_ and all you cared about is if I was okay. I can't… _we_ can't listen to you fading like that.”

Shiro nodded. “I got it. I'm not going to be upset with you for saying what you want to say. I'll try to talk to you guys more.”

Lance smiled. “That's all I'm asking. Thank you, Shiro.” He carefully wrapped his arms around Shiro, minding the sling that held his prosthetic, and held him close. Shiro stiffened for a moment before relaxing, leaning into the contact, and Lance didn't pull away for a while.

On their way back to the others, Lance cautiously slipped his hand into Shiro’s and gently squeezed it. Shiro returned the squeeze, both of them looking pointedly ahead and not at each other.

Shiro let go before they entered the lounge, to Lance’s slight disappointment, but they joined the conversation easily. While they talked, Lance wondered what thoughts were running through Shiro’s head right now. What did he think about all of this?

The others were talking about something with Shiro’s arm, so Lance tuned out the technical talk. He vaguely heard something about it needing to be rebuilt, and felt Shiro stiffen next to him, but he poked Shiro’s side and stuck his tongue out when Shiro looked over. Lance laughed and Shiro chuckled, his eyes fond.

“You guys are so _gross_ ,” Pidge complained. “Can you make heart eyes another time?”

They both looked at her, confused, before locking eyes again and smiling. Keith chucked a pillow at Shiro’s head and it knocked him forward into Lance’s arms. Lance grinned and wrapped his arms around Shiro, holding him close.

“Alright,” Shiro laughed after a moment. “Can I get up?”

Lance hummed in consideration. “Hmm. Nope. Not yet.” His hand idly reached up to card through Shiro’s hair, and despite his complaint Shiro made no attempt to move. His head rested on Lance’s leg, his eyes gently shut. He wasn’t asleep though, so Lance kept lightly massaging Shiro’s scalp until his breathing evened out.

Over the next few days, Shiro had the broken prosthetic surgically removed and got fitted for a new one. Lance volunteered to stick by Shiro’s side, helping him out whenever necessary, and slowly Shiro opened his heart for Lance. Lance opened his own heart, and together they became intertwined.

On days when Shiro’s dark thoughts threatened to drag them down, Lance stayed with him and helped Shiro work through it. Unfortunately, Lance couldn’t make Shiro forget or erase that trauma from his mind. Shiro wasn’t going to magically get better and be able to live without his demons in his shadows.

But Lance did what he could to make Shiro’s days brighter and better, and it made the bad days easier to get through. It sucked that they had needed to be stranded on a planet together in order to bond, but Lance wouldn’t change a thing.

Shiro was beautiful. Lance wanted to make sure Shiro knew it.

So, one day, while they were alone and idly chatting, Lance told Shiro everything. Shiro had been surprised, but quietly confessed he felt the same way. It wasn’t necessarily like the movies. They didn’t confess and then everything became magical and amazing. They didn’t even kiss on that day, just sat a little closer.

Lance was perfectly okay with that. They discussed boundaries and what they were comfortable with, and when Shiro had said he’d prefer to take it slow Lance was happy to oblige.

The day they finally kissed was a few weeks later, and it made everything worth it.

A few years later, after the war ended and the universe no longer needed Voltron, the two lovers exchanged their vows on the altar. Shiro had rested his forehead against Lance and whispered a few words meant only for Lance, and Lance leaned up to kiss him. He didn’t need to say how he felt out loud, transferring it into the passion and love in his actions and his eyes.

Neither of them would change it for the world.

That day, they became truly intertwined.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the fic!
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://shirosquared.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/shirosquared) at their respective links!


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